Hogwarts, A History of Hobbits
by A Scribbler of Hobbiton
Summary: Hogwarts, meet Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. Watch the food, and hope that nothing important's burning over there. After all, a little courage, a little friendship, and a little mayhem can change the course of Hogwarts' future. Hobbits, witches, and wizards join together to rid themselves of the "High Inquisitor". Good bye, Dolores Umbridge! Hobbits, meet Hogwarts!


There is an old book, deep in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts' library. A book without any name and a rather strange, queer book at that. Most books found at Hogwarts are certainly odd, and as for this particular book, it is no exception. Yet, there is nothing too unusual about this book. Nothing dangerous or mysterious. In the case of magical books, it is actually quite ordinary. It had lain under piles of papers and dust, ignored and forgotten for quite a long time until it became the root of an interesting occurrence that just about turned all of Hogwarts upside-down.

If you want to know how this book came to be, you will have to ask someone wiser than I am, for this old book contains all there is of tales and stories ever since the ages of old. A newer tales sprout and grow, they all are added into this one book, and over time, the book starts bursting to the brim with stories, many of which you have probably never even heard of before. But I am sure that you have heard of what most magical books do in this circumstance. For lack of better words, they spit it back out. And for ages, this old book has been throwing out many strange things from bits and pieces of poetry to enchanted diamonds, from mysterious plants to the unfortunate Sir Cadogan.

Lately, the number of stories was increasing at a rate far beyond what was healthy for books and in a fit of pique, the book took to mass regurgitation. Out came Shakespeare's sonnet 87, a couple lines from Dickens, Sherlock Holmes' Persian slipper, Aladdin's lamp, and other various literary lines and items [1]. Finally, the book closed with a snap, but not before two fictional characters made their way into life and existence. Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, welcome to Hogwarts.

~O~

"Achoo!"

Standing between teetering bookshelves and surrounded by lots and lots of dust, Merry and Pippin had successfully made it past simply confused. They were utterly confounded, bewildered, perplexed and perpluxered, biffled, baffled, flustered, and every other synonym to be found anywhere within Hogwart's massive library. After all, being plopped practically into the middle of nowhere can hardly be a very pleasant experience, especially considering the clouds and storms of dust.

"Pippin! Where are you off to?" suddenly cried Merry to a rapidly vanishing Pippin. "That dratted Took! Can't you stay still a moment?"

Ignoring the protests of his cousin, Pippin went off to explore all of the hidden, dusty corners of this strange place. Down he wandered, over mounds of paper, through narrow aisles, past what could have been an encyclopedia. Everything seemed to feel curiously different. There was a very odd and peculiar magic to everything that seemed more worldly and ordinary and yet far stranger than that of the elves. Some books seemed to be asking to be read while others contained a darker air. There were a couple of books that danced away every time Pippin reached for them, and there were some that refused to open without the password. Deeper and deeper, Pippin meandered into the library as he turned another corner.

He had not gone much father when he noticed a book, balancing precariously on a mountain of books, a very unstable pile carelessly thrown together. Straining to reach the book on top, Pippin was hit by a streak of what you and I call a whole lot of bad luck as every book in the pile tumbled down, knocking other books off of the shelves along the way. Within seconds, a cacophony of shrieks and hollers, growls and mrowls, clanging bells, and a couple of explosions burst out from deep within the library. Back where Merry sat, not daring to stray for fear of losing Pippin, Merry heard the commotion and knew, without any doubt, that, yes, that was Pippin, chief causer of practically all of the trouble from Buckland to the Sea.

~O~

"Let's see. One half-baked prank. A school-wide total of 30 points deducted, most of them from Gryffindor. Three students off to who knows where _without_ permission. And it's only nine in the morning!"

In other words, Minerva McGonagall was having an absolutely terrible day. So naturally, when the library exploded in commotion, she was done. Completely done with the students, the new staff, magic, and the world in general. With a formidable scowl that did not nearly convey her displeasure to its fullest extent, Professor McGonagall marched off to Dumbledore's office. This was one mess that she was _not_ in the mood to fix.

~O~

The office doors flew open, and one irritated professor sat down with a huff and duly informed Albus Dumbledore that her day was trying enough as is, she has no need for more trouble, and that he is going to be the person who is fixing everything from this point forward. With his ever-twinkling eyes, Dumbledore did not respond and, instead, waited a moment with unconcealed amusement.

"Oh, don't look at me like that! I am tired of herding this fractious lot of students, whose only jobs seem to be to drive me into early retirement! And, goodness, I can't stay angry at them for very long either."

"You always forgive them within five minutes, Minerva," observed Dumbledore, who seemed to be failing miserably at repressing his grin, "You are positively growing mellow with age!"

The glare came back with full intensity again. "As if you are one to call others old. What was that I heard only a few days ago about you not being as young as you used to be?" sniffed McGonagall, "Anyway, you had better go on quickly, before the library burns down at this rate."

Dumbledore chuckled as they left the office. "I am positive it is just a minor incident. Early study failures. Nothing too troubling, for sure."

But, for once, the great Headmaster of Hogwarts was more than a little incorrect. Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, was off by a landslide, the Shire, and the Sundering Seas.

~O~

Disclaimer: All recognizable places and character are the property of each corresponding author.

[1] From William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and _Arabian Nights_ (which is a collection of stories by various authors) respectively.

As always, reviews are very much welcomed and appreciated.


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